He held a cheque payable at the Saltwich bank. It was for forty pounds odd. This he took to the Smoucher, who, with his accustomed skill, took out the handwriting, and substituted in its stead four hundred pounds instead of the forty.
It was so admirably done that no one could detect the alteration, and Mr. Sutherland, who knew perfectly well that the drawer of the cheque had a large balance at the bank in question, hastened down to Saltwich with the altered cheque. He had for his companion the unscrupulous scoundrel, “The Cracksman,” as he was termed. This personage has already been introduced to the reader.
Sutherland and his accomplice put themselves into the train and booked to the nearest station for Saltwich.
Sutherland was to present the cheque while the Cracksman kept watch and ward outside.
When they arrived at their destination Mr. Sutherland made at once for the bank. He was fashionably attired was of aristocratic appearance, and had all the ease and self-possession of a person who was accustomed to move in good society. And he had the audacity of the old gentleman himself.
He walked into the bank with the greatest possible assurance and presented his cheque, which was paid without a moment’s hesitation.
He pocketed the money and met the Cracksman at an appointed spot some distance down the road.
“It’s all right—got the browns,” said Mr. Sutherland. “We had better not be seen walking together. You make for the station as soon as you see me turn down Hagget’s-lane. I’ll wait for you at the station. Do you understand?”
“All right, Dandy. Best not be seen together till we are out of the wood. All right, I’m fly.”
Sutherland walked rapidly on till he reached the lane in question.